There's Something About The Snow
by trulysunflowers
Summary: Coraline despises the snow. Ever since those perilous events took place at the Pink Palace four years ago, she can't bring herself to trust it. Wybie picks up on these undertones and decides to do something nice for her. Little does Wybie know, Coraline has a Christmas gift of her own to give him.
1. One

"You know, I kinda hate snow, Wybie."

Christmas Eve was upon Coraline and Wybie as they ventured outside. Coraline hid her face further into her scarf as the breeze picked up. Her yellow boots sunk slightly into what she considered a white death trap, her socks and feet becoming damp as the time went by. Wybie walked beside her, their shoulders brushing against the others as they walked aimlessly through the woods. She peered at him through her peripherals. The wind swept up his monstrosity of brown curls. It was even messier than this morning when he first arrived to pick her up. Irritated, she turned her nose up at how content he seemed to be. How could he possibly be so happy surrounded around something so sinister?

"You don't think it's cool? It barely ever snows here." Wybie responded, looking around in amazement.

If her irritation wasn't visible then, it was definitely visible now. Her face grew hot and a shade of red that had nothing to do with the cold winter brings. She clenched her fists together as they sat in her pockets. Coraline examined the bare trees and the way snow lazily molded against the branches. Flakes glittered on the shards of a broken bottle nearby. It was indeed pretty to Coraline, in its own twisted little way.

"It's interesting I suppose.." Coraline trailed while closing her eyes and snuggling back into her scarf.

"Oh, I'm guessing it snowed a lot back in Michigan, huh." Wybie responded nervously.

Wybie knew an annoyed Coraline wasn't a Coraline he wanted to deal with. He always had the same cautious habits when she was annoyed. Like now, he'd fiddle with his hands and pulled his jacket at the neck. He wasn't sure if he feared Coraline as a person, or if he just feared what she could be capable of. Wybie knew that Coraline wasn't afraid to take risks, because unlike him, she seldom regretted those risks. Sure, he liked adventure, but not as much as Coraline, which oftentimes led to her being the leader of whatever they could get themselves into. He definitely wasn't going to anger a girl who'd put him in deathbed for mispronouncing her name.

"It snowed, but maybe no more than a inch or so." She replied, gazing off in the distance.

"That's not the point you wish to make here, is it." He sighed.

"I was wondering when you'd start connecting the dots, Wyborn."

"No need for the passive aggressiveness, Jonesy. I just don't quite understand what you're getting at." He smiled meekly.

Still gazing off in the distance, Coraline mumbled.

"My parents were trapped in a mirror because of the Other Mother."

"And what does that have to do with snow?"

"It was snowing inside the mirror, or technically the other world I guess. I'm not sure. They scribbled for my help and everything. Yet, the strange part about it is that they don't remember any of it!" Coraline exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air.

"And I guess it just never sat right with me. I mean, I hope I- I mean, I guess you sort of defeated her too, since you helped me destroy her hand so that I could throw the key into the well, but since it's snowing, I feel like it's her way of taunting me." Coraline made sure to whisper the last part, in case the Other mother had been tuning in.

"I mean, I guess I did kind of save your life back then."

Wybie was quick to joke, especially since this was the rare time that Coraline actually paid him a compliment, but he quickly regretted it as he noticed the unease that plagued her face.

"I'm scientifically sure she's dead. Even if she is out there, you threw the key down the well, which means you or anyone else can't get hurt anymore." Wybie continued.

"I know you're probably right for once, but I think she's still out there watching. Ghosts, or whatever she was, just don't die." Coraline shook her head in dismay.

"If that helps you sleep better at night. Yet, you can't blame yourself. It's probably best if your parents have no recollections anyway. Besides, now you have someone to share the guilt with."

"Thanks, Wybie."

Wybie smiled softly. This was definitely a more vulnerable side of his friend. Coraline seldom opened up about what happened years ago. He hadn't realized how much it had still haunted her, and he possessed his own guilt from not believing Coraline in the beginning. Yet in his defense, it was a lot to take in as an eleven year old. Especially when Coraline mentioned that it was another him in a parrallel universe. He wondered what came of the other Wybie, and if he met his untimely demise. He did find it quite hurtful that Coraline liked the more quiet, less rambling Wybie though.

Breaking from his thoughts, Wybie closed the distance between them. He slowly began to remove his biker gloves, taking Coraline's small hand in his own.

"H-here, you need these." Wybie cleared his throat.

There was a visible height diference between them now that they were teenagers. Coraline could've sworn just yesterday she was towering over him, but somewhere along the lines he had hit a growth spurt. Sure, it was only a measly two inches, but it was enough to make her feel small.

"What about your hands?" She retorted.

"Oh, I'll be fine. You're going to get frostbite or something. You're shivering, Jonesy."

_Jonesy._

Yes, he had already addressed her as "Jonesy" once before. He's addressed her as "Jonesy" perhaps a million of times before now. Yet, there was so much tenderness behind it this time; So much concern. She felt like a child who couldn't look after herself and it made her queasy in a way. She was blushing from God knows what, which caused her to look shyly at the ground. Her own gloves were tattered and worn from the constant years of use. She loved them from the day her mother brought them home and she still loved them despite their condition.

"You're really weird, Wybie." Coraline whispered.

"I know."

Coraline nudged at the snow beneath her feet. She didn't know what to say. It wasn't that Wybie was ever a malicious person. Their friendship dynamic was weird. They always helped when the other was stuck in a rut, but their random acts of kindness for each other were barely acknowledged, at least not in a sentimental way. It was more so "Shut up, Wybie!" or "You're actually asking for my assistance, Jonesy?"

Seeing what looked like discomfort on his face, he jokingly asked "W-what's the matter, cat's got your tongue?" Wybie tried to break the silence.

Quickly regretting once again, speaking the first thoughts that came to mind, he quickly followed his question up before she could verbally attack him.

"Do you want me to take you home now? There really wasn't anything important to look for or examine today. I just thought we'd maybe enjoy the first snow of the year."

"Well, I definitely don't want you catching frostbite," Coraline teased, sticking her tongue out. "So yeah, let's go home."

Wybie smiled weakly, rubbing his neck. He spun around on his heels, and headed back toward his motorcycle. He kind of wish he would've appreciated the brown of Coraline eyes a bit more before he began walking back. Wybie always found that they had a glimmer. Whether it was frustration or childlike wonder, anger or rebellious satisfaction. Just a pure, and what seemed to be a natural glimmer that left Wybie puzzled with emotion. When they held eye contact just a few moments ago, Wybie felt something. He couldn't pinpoint that something, but it was definitely new. He would have to think about it later.

Wybie seemed to have zoned out as he found himself standing in front of his red motorcycle. He felt Coraline approaching behind him as she trudged through the snow. He unchained from the tree and proceeded to kick the stand up. He slid on the seat with ease. For some reason, he was waiting for the embrace that came with Coraline wrapping her arms around him during the ride. He shivered when she finally did catch up to him and did exactly what he silently yearned for. Thank God for the freezing temperatures, as Wybie wouldn't be able to explain all his newfound shivering.

"Ready?" Wybie questioned, pulling down his mask.

"Ready." Coraline breathed.

With that, the engined revved and soon enough they were off. Carolina learned to love the adrenaline that came with being on a motorized vehicle. It ignited every rebellious bone in her body, and it was bonus points that she rode without a helmet. Her blue hair flew everywhere, the cold wind nipping at her pale face. She unconsciously buried her face into the back Wybie's leather jacket. Partly to stay warm, and partly because they were going slow enough for her to pick up on his scent of fresh pine trees.

After about ten minutes or so, they arrived at the Pink Palace. It was beginning to get dark, the sky unchanged from its cloudy and gray hue. Coraline jumped off the motorcycle, almost falling backwards.

"Careful. I might have to save your life again." Wybie teased.

"Shut it, Wyborn. You know I'm the only one who can saves yours. Don't let me be the one to endanger it too." She retorted, crinkling up her nose.

"I see the cat finally gave you back your tongue."

He smiled at the sight of her freckles and the way they looked when it crinkled in disgust. She was so fiery and filled with uncontainable sass, and Wybie wouldn't have it any other way. Even if that meant being verbally attacked from time to time, her self expression was important to their dynamic.

"What did you ask for this Christmas?" Wybie smiled.

"I'll be lucky if my parents spare me any attention this year. But nothing out of the usual. Socks, hair dye, books, a plane ticket to visit my friends back home over the summer although there's zero percent chance of that happening." She sighed.

"Do you ever miss home?" Wybie looked up at her.

"I guess this is my home now since I've lived here for four years." She replied.

"That's not a very long time."

"I do miss my friends, and maybe there was a little bit more freedom down in Oregon than it is here. I didn't have to wear a stupid uniform at my old school."

"That's fair. You seem to have a lot that you want to express."

"But don't get me wrong, I love throwing parties in the gardens, and using sticks to find my way, and my weird neighbors. I also got to keep a cat. Those are about the only things here that keeps this place ten seconds from snoozeville."

"We give bland a good name though."

"What about you? What did you ask for?" Insisted Coraline.

"Nothing, really. You have everything you need when you utilize everything around you." He smiled, putting his arms in the air for effect.

"Uh-huh." Coraline clicked her tongue.

"Well," Wybie spoke, running a hand through his hair, "I better get going. Don't want Gramma out looking for me again."

"And hey, before I forget. Come by house so I can give you your gift tomorrow." He added.

"You got me a gift?" Coraline gasped.

"Why wouldn't I? We're friends right. In our own twisted way."

"Who said we were friends, Wyborn?"

"Alright, alright. Friendly acquaintances. Just when I thought you were warming up to me." Wybie teased.

Coraline stuck her tongue out like she always did when she didn't have anything witty to say. Finding nothing else to say, Wybie put on his mask and climbed onto his bike once again. Before revving his engine, he turned toward his blue-haired "acquaintance".

"Later, Jonesy." He spoke.

Before she could respond, he was already driving off into the distance. He seemed to be taking the sky with him as the sunset began to set more. She blushed again. _Jonesy. Jonesy. Jonesy. _It was so stupid and infuriating. Yet it only frustrated Coraline because Wybie had been calling her that _ridicolous _nickname for the two years that she's known him. So why did it leave such a profound affect on her now, and not the type that made her want to pummel him?

"Later, Wyborn." She whispered.

**Thank you so much for reading part one of my two-shot. I did consider making this a one shot, but I figured it would be extreme eyesore to read what could potentially be a 4,000 word chapter. I also wanted to leave you all on a cliffhanger in hopes of piquing your interest. The final chapter _should_ be posted tomorrow. (Consider this a little Christmas treat from me!) Finally, I wholeheartedly appreciate any constructive criticism that anyone has. Coraline is one of my favorite childhood movies and it sad to see that it might be a dying fandom. Alongside that, I enjoy Wybie's and Coraline's friendship dynamic and have always wanted to experiment with the possibilities of a romantic relationship. Have a wonderful Christmas Eve and thank you so so much for giving this a chance! **


	2. Two

Deep down somewhere, she so desperately wanted it to be "later".

Coraline never possessed great urgency to be in Wybie's presence before. She tried to rationalize these newfound feelings by telling herself that it was purely boredom. Although her parents were better about acknowledging her existence, there was only so much attention they could provide their sole daughter. Her parents never truly removed themselves from the world of garden cataloguing, and Coraline would never understand their interest in it. Especially when it caused them to bicker over bills or have little money to keep their family afloat. Even now, they sat with no working heat. It had broken weeks earlier, and with no money in the budget to fix it, they were forced to make accommodations. Her father had opened their stove in hopes of circulating heat in nearby rooms. Convinced that their house would burn down, Coraline's mother began to argue with him.

_"We're going to freeze, Mel!"_

_"Maybe we'd have extra money to fix the heat if you got your cataologuing drafts to me on time!" _

Sighing, Coraline shivered on the way up to her room. It had always been like this. The anguished adults underneath the guise of a loving marriage. Coraline knew that her parents "loved" each other, but at times Coraline fathomed what love even meant. Did love drive you to argue over minimal things or to say things out of spite? Did it drive you to _neglect_ your only child? Whatever love was, Coraline wanted zero part of it. She couldn't even comprehend who her parents were trying to prove themselves to. Their neighbors were too eccentric to care about the reputation of erratic gardeners. Perhaps, her parents were trying to prove something to themselves. Just as Coraline sat in the bathroom trying to prove to herself that Wybie _only_ killed boredom. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the past, that claim stood completely true. In the midst of adjusting to her stay in the Pink Palace, Wybie housed a space for Coraline's curiosity. When there was nothing to do within the walls of her broken home, she knew Wybie would be there with a new adventure. A new theory. A new life that she could pretend to have for a couple of hours. With Wybie, she was the hero of her own story. Above all, he offered a place for her mind to bloom. A mind that hadn't seen much sunlight since her arrival to Oregon. As Coraline peeled off clothing, she slowly began to realize that Wybie's presence brought forth nurturing, security, _warmth. _Warmth that spread through Coraline like a wildfire. Warmth that lingered in Coraline's hands after finally removing his gloves. It was almost enough to make her forget that she was freezing. She carefully laid the gloves on the edge of the sink. Pulling back the shower curtains, she revealed the soft stains of bugs she killed days before. Gagging, she turned the leaky faucet. Greeted by lukewarm water, she showered quickly.

She winced as her wet feet touched the icy floorboards. She stood in a towel, combing furiously through her wet hair. She eyed the gloves nervously. _"Would it be weird if I wore them to bed?" _she thought. Since her room was upstairs, it made sense that it was the coldest. She had been begging her parents to buy a portable heater, but there was simply no money to purchase one. She wasn't old enough to get her own job yet and it'd take her months to raise up enough money by doing odd jobs. By then, she might not even need the heater. Layering on pajamas and relying on a outgrown blanket only did so much. Her frozen fingertips would appreciate the added warmth. She sure Wybie wouldn't mind. No, she _knew _he wouldn't mind because there was no way he could. He wasn't here to dictate her on what she could do with them. Besides, it was his fault for giving her the stupid gloves in the first place. Having made up her mind, Coraline clothed herself and with a tinge of guilt, slipped on Wybie's gloves.

As she attempted to make herself comfortable in bed, Wybie infiltrated her thoughts more. She thought about how nice it had been to wrap her arms around him as the world became a beautiful blur. In times like this, she could kill for a hug. Her face burned at the thought of Wybie being on the other side of her bed. It was strictly innocent, wanting nothing more than the embrace of fresh pine to lull her to sleep. She would dig her nose in the hem of whatever he was wearing and know then and there, that she was safe. Coraline shook her head, chuckling at the idiocy she felt. It was peculiar, whatever she was experiencing. She had always done these things with Wybie, so why did she find herself overanalyzing the details now? She held onto him tightly because she _had_ to—or else she'd fall off. She took the gloves because he was _so _insistent on her suffering. Coraline usually loved having the last word, but today in particular left her with no interest to argue at all.

Coraline blamed generosity. Coraline found it difficult to challenge someone who was being nice to her. It had happened with the Other Mother and it'd continue to happen over and over. She even found it impossible to argue with her parents when they were nicer than usual. There was something that overpowered Coraline when Wybie showed concern for her physical condition. Thinking about the situation in this light caused Coraline to wonder if she could trust Wybie. Sure, Wybie had been nice to her before, but he had never gone out of his way for her. This was their fourth Christmas together and he had never gotten her a gift in the past. What if he had a ulterior motive? What if it's a prank? Should she have gotten him a gift as well? Even if she could get him a gift, stores were closed on Christmas day.

"Get out of my head, Wyborn." Coraline whispered to herself.

The next morning, Coraline was awakened by a horribly burnt breakfast. They hadn't sat at the dinner table together as a family for months. Her father would take his barely edible meals and retreat to the computer, whereas her mother seemed to have forgotten to eat altogether some days. She was beginning to look gaunt and exhausted, an appearance that Coraline was afraid she'd imitate if she continued on the path she was. Charles was never a good cook, but his awful cuisine skills seemed to have worsened over time. Coraline couldn't blame her mother for not wanting to eat. Yet, Coraline knew there would be nothing more than what they had, so she scarfed down what she could. In her defense, Coraline got decent sleep most of the time. Last night had proven to be difficult though, as her thoughts of Wybie increased.

"Coraline Jones, where are your table manners?" her mother scoffed, referencing her quick eating.

"Some of us are hungry, mother." Coraline deadpanned, glancing at her mother's untouched plate.

"Well, I'm glad you appreciate my attempt, Coraline." Her father jumped in.

"Right.." her mother trailed. "Since you're done so early, why don't you open your gift?"

Coraline eyed the only gift under their table sized Christmas tree. Saying nothing, she scooted back from the kitchen table. Usually it was one of two things: A pair of gloves or a fuzzy pair of socks. Something Coraline had temporary interest in while she and her mother lingered in the market. She halfway hoped that it was a plane ticket. Coraline became incredibly guilty, wondering if her parents spent a large amount of their income to fund a trip back to Michigan. When she opened the box, relief washed over her.

At first glance, it seemed to be a simple scarf. Yet, when Coraline took another look at it, she saw that the scarf had stiching that resembled the print of a cat's paw. She ran her nimble fingers over the soft material, her eyes watering.

"We know how much you miss your cat, sweetheart, so we thought-"

Coraline fell into her parent's arms, once again becoming the small child that she had always been. That she had always tried to push away. Whenever Coraline caught herself being unappreciative, she sensed that the Other Mother was listening in. She knew the Other Mother was "dead", defeated, or something along those lines. Yet, in the rare case that she wasn't, Coraline chose gratitude. In this moment, she chose gratitude. Even if her parent's decision brought back painful memories.

"Thank you." She breathed, forcing herself to blink back tears.

Feeling that she had expressed her appreciation well, Coraline walked back to the shimmery gift box. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she pick up the garment. Giving it one last once over, she proceeded to carefully wrap the scarf around her neck. Avoiding her parent's tired gazes, she quickly eyed the door.

"I'm going to Wybie's." She deadpanned, already walking over.

"Don't let the dark catch you." Her mother warned.

"It's only nine in the morning. Besides, I wouldn't dream of it." Coraline scoffed, sarcasm peeking through.

Coraline regretted her sarcasm and found herself closing the door before her mother could respond. She couldn't help it. Adults were so obvious sometimes. She knew the rules and there was no sense in reiterating them. What were they thinking anyways? Getting her a gift that reminded her of her dead cat. Her protector. Her wusspuss. Her guide that eventually saved her from devilish purgatory. Coraline couldn't tell the difference between two years and yesterday. Two years ago that she found her cat lifeless in her bedroom. Two years ago on the same date in which she defeated the Other Mother.

She trudged along in the snow, kicking at it as she went.

"You ruin everything.." Coraline whispered.

"You took away my cat." Coraline grew louder.

"And now you taunt me with this snow!"

Her heart hammered in her chest while her head grew dizzy. She knew there was no use, but yelling made her feel better. Powerful even. She needed the Other Mother to know that she'd always have the last word.

Even if those words shook with fear.

**Thank you for reading the second chapter of TSATS! You may be saying to yourself, this CAN'T be the end to the second chapter, and alas you are correct. I originally planned for this to be a two-shot. Yet as I said in the previous chapter, I have a love of cliffhangers and a fear that chapters will become a mouthful to read. So, I have decided to stretch this out a bit more. I think this short story will definitely be done in a matter of three chapters, no more than four. (Sorry, I'm such a fan of the slowburn). I'm also extremely sorry I wasn't able to get this chapter out on Christmas as planned. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and as always, constructive criticism is appreciated!**


	3. Three

Coraline thought about turning around.

She sniffled about a hundred times before she allowed herself to cry softly. Coraline never cried, and at this point she considered it a sin. After their move to Oregon, she found her emotions hardening. She was a hallow husk of her old self—Whoever that was. With no one to confide her emotions into, she found it almost too easy to shut the hurt all away. It was too late in this life to begin showing any other emotion that wasn't spunk or cynicism. Not to mention, the last time she let her guard down, she almost became trapped in a parallel universe.

Coraline thought about turning around.

She was already halfway to Wybie's house. Her eyes felt heavy and she was sure her nose was the shade of a rose. She could feel the snot trickling out her nose and onto her numb skin. Wiping it on the back of her coat sleeve, she glances at Wybie's gloves. The warmth she experienced from the previous day washed over her. She didn't want Wybie to see her crying like a big idiot. She didn't even flinch the day she told Wybie that her cat died, all deadpanned and straight lips. What would he think of her crying about it years later? She knew Wybie wasn't one to be harsh. Yet, she still had the urgent desire to fix her composure. She built her reputation upoon being tougher than Wybie—and she planned on it staying that way.

The sun was shining brighter and Coraline hoped this meant immediate demise for the snow piled around her. She sufficed a smile while the bottom of her feet ached. The soles of her boots were becoming worn by the day, which meant damp socks. She needed to get out of them immediately. Coraline had only been to Wybie's house once. It was spacious and had everything her house didn't, or more so, everything her parents couldn't afford to pay for. Perhaps he would allow her to dry her socks near the fireplace when she arrived. Wrapping the scarf around her face to conceal whatever remnant of crying was left, Coraline approached the cobblestone steps. She began to wonder why she didn't visit more often, as Wybie's grandmother forbid him from the Pink Palace. After finding out the truth regarding her long lost sister, Coraline couldn't blame her. Splitting from the apartments is a decision Coraline would have probably made herself.

Coraline knocked, the door a combination of faded pink and chipped wood. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to fix her composure as quickly as possible. To her relief, it was Wybie's grandmother who opened the door. A smile framed her wrinkly face as she took the sight of Caroline in. Not a strand out of place in the gray of her bun.

"While hello there, Coraline." She began, clasping her fragile fingers together.

"Actually, it's-" Coraline replied, removing the scarf from her lips. "Wait, you actually got my name right." She whispered with amazement.

"Why wouldn't I, dear? Now come in before you catch cold!" She demanded, waving her into the home.

"Yes m'am."

Wybie's house always smelled as expected when old people resided in them. Taffy and moth balls. Although today, his grandmother had masked the smell with minty candles. Crackling softly was the fire in the living room. Pictures of baby Wybie and vintage people she'd probably never hear about liked it above. Caroline often wondered about his parents, as the people decorating the walls seemed too ancient to claim parenthood. Having some sort of mannerisms, Coraline would never ask unless Wybie opened up about the information. Which in the moment, was weird because Coraline was never afraid to inquire anything. She could care less about feelings. Yet, all of that was beginning to change.

" , May I dry my socks near your fireplace? They're horribly wet?" Caroline questioned.

"Of course, dear! You're our guest. We wouldn't want you losing any toes." She assured her.

"Losing toes would be an awesome story to tell."

Wybie smiled his softest smile as he stepped one by one down the stairs. Coraline was surprised that he wore other clothes outside of his biker attire. There he stood, in dark jeans and a knitted sweater, fluffy socks peeking out from under bedroom slippers. The one thing that would never seem to change was the unkemptness of his curls. Coraline couldn't say she minded though. There was something painstakingly beautiful about this Wybie.

"Don't be distasteful, Wyborn! And please go check on those muffins!"

"Yes, Gramma." Wybie signed, rubbing his neck.

Coraline sufficed a giggle as she removed the socks from her feet. Digging her feet into the soft carpet, she made her way over to the fireplace. She sat the socks as close as she could without them meeting a fiery demise. Finding it impolite to walk around barefoot, she slipped her boots back on.

"Oh here, Jonesy. Let me fetch you some socks from my room." Wybie insisted, removing the oven mitts from his hands.

"You don't have to do that." Coraline retorted quickly, afraid that her discomfort had shone on her face.

"While I think losing toes to hypothermia is cool and all, I know Gramma will have a fit." He chuckled.

"I'm sure she wouldn't have a fit if your face lost to my fist." Coraline stuck her tongue out.

Coraline wished she could punch her own self in the face. She couldn't understand why she did _that. _Why when Wybie met her with kindness, she contrasted with harshness. He was just being a proper hostess, mostly under his grandmother's command. He would probably care less about her freezing feet had he not the push to.

"Tsk, tsk. Always one for violence huh, Jonesy?" He teased, guesturing for her to follow him up the stairs.

Coraline stuck out her tongue once more and followed behind him, making sure to maintain their distance. She was deathly afraid that being close to him would prove a point she was afraid to admit out loud. If she could keep her cool for the rest of their time together, perhaps she was blowing things out of proportion after all.

Wybie's room was cramped, as if him and his grandmother made it their mission to fill up the entertity of its space. His desk took up the most space, covered with documents of his findings and outside adventures. Posters were beginning to unhinge themselves from the wall. Coraline half-expected it to be clean as she glanced over clothes hanging from drawers and wrapping paper sprawled over the floor. She wondered who he could possibly be wrapping gifts for, as he never mentioned other family. Her only guess were the other tenants.

"It's a little messy in here." He started, rummaging through his drawers for a pair of socks.

"I'm not blind, why-were-you-born. I'm surprised your grandmother hasn't sent you straight to the guillotine." She retorted.

Choosing not to respond, Wybie handed her the socks. It was then when she remembered his gloves. The gloves that still sheltered her hands. Blushing, she removed them quickly and made the trade-off.

"You forgot these yesterday." She spoke shyly, glancing down at the floor.

"You might as well take my whole closet." He joked.

"I'm only doing this because you act like it's the end of the world when something unfortunate happens to me."

"And is it so bad if I find it to be the complete end of humanity?"

Her stomach tumbled as she sat on the floor. Kicking her boots off, she pulled the socks up her feet and cuffed them. She despised Wybie for how incredibly witty he had become over the last few years. She liked it better when he was the one lost for words. Coraline was getting checkmated at her own game—and she was beginning to panic.

"So what's this gift? Are you pulling my leg or something? Another one of those evil dolls to spy on me?" She interrogated.

"She's dead, Coraline." He sighed, retreating into his closet.

"You don't know that." Coraline argued.

"Plus, I know better than to take things from my Gramma now." Wybie responded.

In his hands sat a medium sized gift, wrapped in snowflake themed paper. Biting at the skin on his lips, he placed it in front of Coraline.

"See for yourself."

Coraline stared at the perfectly wrapped box in front of her. Wrapping was not a skill Wybie had under his belt. "It probably took him ages." Coraline thought. Her name was scribbled in that messy boyish handwriting every male on earth seemed to possess. Her heart was a caged beast locked within her ribcage, thrashing hard for its escape. She worried that it took up the silence of the moment.

"Wybie, I, I, I can't open this. It probably took all night for you to wrap this. I didn't even get you anything." Coraline sputtered, fingering edges of the taped corners.

"And it will have taken me all night for nothing if you don't accept it, Jonesy." He folded his arms.

"Earth to idiot. I didn't get you anything." She repeated.

"Earth to not-at-all-an-idiot-because-you'd-kill-me-if-I-called-you-one. It's fine. I don't mind. Now, please open it before my Gramma kills me first." He pleaded.

"Okay, okay. Geez. It's better she kills you than me." She grinned.

Hoping to preserve the wrapping, she peeled at the tape slowly. As she did so, Wybie made room for himself to sit face to face. Nothing more than a box in between them. Coraline glanced at Wybie, only to immediately glance down. His smile faded along with her shy eyesight. He noted her pale skin, and the freckles that sat upon it. The way her dark circles furrowed under the concentration of such a mundane task. He wondered if she was alive under there, or just a shell of a human being.

Coraline gasped at the revealing of her gifts. In the brown box sat purple hair dye and questionably, a walkie talkie. She had wanted to dye her hair hair purple for ages, but her parents refused to buy it. She loved the blue, but as she grew older, she yearned for something new. Something new that would shred the old Coraline into oblivion. Coraline could feel the tears welling up.

"Do you like it? Was the last box in stock. Apparently purple is a really popular hair color. Even in the plainness of Oregon."

"I've wanted purple hair for a long time, actually." Coraline breathed.

"Are you...okay? Is there something I'm missing? Are they putting chemicals that mess with hormones in the dye?"

Coraline stifled a laugh. She knew he was attempting to lighten the mood. She couldn't even be angry at him. She was angry with herself, for crying in front of him. It was just stupid hair dye. Something she mentioned from time to time in their conversations.

"Coraline?"

She winced as he covered her hands with his. Despite the warmth that enveloped her, somehow she was still cold under his palm. Their cheeks burned. Wybie had no idea in regards to what he was doing. All he knew is that every bone in his body ached to comfort her in anyway that he could. It was as if every system in Coraline's body was malfunctioning. This level of intimacy between them was new, and because of it, she slid her hands back from his touch.

"You've never called me Coraline."

"Well, technically I have. Since I had to learn it was Coraline and not Caroline on the day that he met. But in all seriousness, I just wanted to know if you were there."

He internally kicked himself in the shin for ruining such a tense moment. Of course he's interrupt a conversation with technicalities. He was Wyborn Lovat for a reason. He was afraid that Coraline would think he's dismissive of her feelings.

"Know if I'm where?" She inquired.

"Inside of that head of yours. You seem very detached lately." He responded.

"I'm changing. Do you expect me to be the Coraline that I was?" She chewed at her nails.

"I don't expect you to be anything, Jonesy. You're the most unpredictable person I've ever met. Given, I haven't met a lot of people here in-"

"I'm scared, Wybie." She admitted.

"And when I say scared, I mean out of my mind. Completely insane. I'm usually scared of nothing, because I'm no wusspuss, but—I've spent my entire life believing that I knew who I was. Up until the incident. Now, I'm scared to be happy. I'm scared to want things. I'm scared because now, there's this huge fear that a consequence is lying behind it. I love being unpredictable because maybe then, no one can pinpoint me. No one can define me. Because I am everything all at once."

Wybie was stunned. She was a girl of her word, because nothing in the world could prepare him for that. He never realized that his blue-haired companion could be so vulnerable. He didn't even think she got sad. Which was probably horrible of him. It's just that, she was the toughest girl he knew. No one stared danger in the face like Coraline Jones.

"She did this to you, didn't she?"

Coraline didn't have the question the "she" he was referring to. Nodding, she whispered "Yes, she did."

"It's a good thing I got you this walkie talkie then." Wybie smiled.

"It's the only brand I know that works over long distances. I know you've been paranoid about the Other Mother for reasons you can not control, so I bought us a pair so we could communicate while at home. Or an adventure. Or if you just want to do what you did now. Talk about yourself instead of running away from the only person you have sometimes. Which is yourself. Or you know..if you're ever in danger and happen to fall down a well so deep, you see the stars." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Me? Coraline Jones in danger? Not a chance. It's more like the other way around." Coraline scoffed, wiping her tears.

"Of course, of course." Wybie pretended to roll his eyes.

"Wyborn. Why are you so nice to me?"

"The same reason you want to dye your hair purple."

"So, because I'm an indecisive teenager with hormonal issues?"

"No, idiot. Because you _deserve _it. There is no ulterior motives for this holiday gift giving. I got you this gift because you're my friend. Not because my Gramma forced me to. Not because I was sent to be a secret spy for the Other Mother. Have you ever thought that you aren't a complete pain and that I value our friendship? Everybody deserves a nice thing once in a while. Especially you, Coraline."

The hairs pricked up on Coraline's neck. She laughed a sporadic soft laugh to keep from being a human tomato. She rolled up her sleeves, pretending to be tough like she always did.

"Do you want me to incite violence on your face?" She threatened.

"Yes, please. But I had a different kind of violence in mind." Wybie blushed.

By now, the box was no longer in between them. Wybie had mustered up the courage to cup one side of her face, gently tucking a blue strand behind her ear. Coraline still wanted to punch him in his beautiful, idiotic face. Yet, it would have to wait as she found her body completely frozen. Their eyes were windows into each other's, looking for any sign that said "you're making a mistake". Coraline had never kissed anyone, let alone even realized she could feel whatever this disgusting emotion was. What if she was the worst kiss he ever experienced in his life?

"Are you sure you want to waste your first kiss on a blue-haired chick who's probably cursed for the rest of her life?" She asked, their lips inches apart.

"Nothing is ever wasted. Just learned. Besides, getting cursed with my best friend sounds like an awesome story to tell one day." He smiles, gently placing his lips on hers.

They're awkward. Coraline doesn't know where to place her hands so she settles for placing it on his knee. She's stiff at first and their teeth knock together a few times before they get the hang of it. Wybie doesn't mind as he appreciates getting to do something he's wanted to do for an enternity. He smiles too much. Coraline finds his shoulder as they depart from one another. Moving back enough to look the other in the eye.

"Are you okay? Was that okay?" Coraline began.

"Best Christmas gift you could've gotten me." He responded.

Coraline still burned the degrees of a thousand suns, so all she could manage was sticking her tongue out at him. It was weird, how everything had transformed within a matter of hours. She still had yet to figure out if these were newfound feelings or something she had harvested deep within her unknowingly.

"Thank you. For everything."

Coraline embraced Wybie. The last time she had hugged anyone like this was the goodbye to her best friends. It was becoming clearer that Wybie was the home she longed for; And for once, she'd let this feeling engulf her. If Wybie, the person she tormented everyday from sun up to sundown, believed she deserved good things, who was she to testify against it.

"You're the interesting in this very boring world, Coraline. I could understand why she'd spy on you. You're puzzling, and who's to say I'm not a spy." He teased.

"It's not too late for me to rearrange your face, why-were-you-born." She smiled, shoving his shoulder.

"Of course not."

There they sat, hands engulfing each other's as they gazed shyly at one another. She couldn't believe she kissed the same person she'd strangle and he couldn't believe he willingly kissed the person who'd strangle him. In their world, the weirdest and scariest things felt right. Until they didn't. And when that happened, they'd fight the battles all the same. With undefeat. Wybie couldn't melt the snow or bring back her beloved cat, but he could do other things. Things that allowed Coraline to tear down her walls and let in the love.

**Thank you so much for reading the final chapter of my short story, "There's Something About The Snow". I am extremely sorry for the long awaited updated. Through school and other activities taking up my free time, I lost motivation to finish. Yet, seeing individuals who enjoyed it has warmed my heart. I hope this last chapter wasn't a complete letdown, and I hope you check out my works in the future. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated immensely. Thank you for giving my fic a chance! **


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